


Subtlety (Or, Clarke really wants Lexa to ask her to Prom)

by watchingfangirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, No one dies in this one, and lexa is none the wiser, based on a post i saw on tumblr, but clarke does pine, or so clarke thinks, this was supposed to be a drabble and then feelings got involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6686533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchingfangirl/pseuds/watchingfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a post I saw on Tumblr, where the guy forgets to tell his friend they're going to prom together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke Griffin does not have a prom date. And she’s okay with that. Mostly.

She's not worried about prom. She's not. Really. It's just... _everyone_ in Clarke’s group of friend’s has a date.

Except her.

So it's a little hard to ignore that she doesn’t when literally all conversation seems to be centered around what everyone's doing for the big night.

Except her.

She's not contributing because she doesn't have a date. None of her friends seem to have noticed yet. (If they have, they're being nice enough to not point it out. That’s new. Her friends have all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.) Being the only one without a date was bad enough; the last thing she needs is for her friends to play matchmaker again after the whole Finn situation.

It’s not that she doesn’t _want_ a date - it’s that nobody’s asked her. That stings a little. (She doesn’t want to admit that what stings even more is the person that Clarke wishes would ask her hasn’t shown any inclination to do so despite her repeated attempts to hint that she’s interested.) She’s not about to beg for a prom date. She’s not. It’s really not that big of a deal. Plenty of people go to prom without a date. She never thought she’d be one of them, but she is, and it’s cool. Besides, she might not be going _in_ with anyone, but being dateless definitely leaves her options open as to who she leaves _out_ with.

That’s a lie. There’s only one person she wants to do that with. Clearly, the feeling’s not mutual. That stings more than anything.

“Earth to Eeyore.” There’s a hand waving in front of her face, and it takes Clarke a moment to break out of whatever trance she was in and realize Raven was saying something to her.

“Sorry. Blanked out. What’s up?” Raven narrows her eyes and gives her a look that says she knows _exactly_ what Clarke was thinking, and she sees the same look etched onto Octavia’s face. She doesn’t want their pity. It’s just _prom_ , for fuck’s sake. The world isn’t going to implode if she doesn’t get to play arm candy for the night.

(Her potential not date will _so_ be missing out, though.)

Luckily for her, the lunch bell rings before they can call her out on it. Clarke’s thankful for small favors.

Until she remembers what class she’s going to after lunch and who she has to sit beside.

 _Fuck_.


	2. Chapter 2

Let it be known that Clarke Griffin _does not_ run away from things. She usually runs right towards them. When the ‘thing’ in question, however, involves sitting next to her lab partner that she’s had a crush on for a better part of the school year, it makes her want to rethink her usual strategy.

But Lexa’s so sweet, and _god_ , she’s fucking beautiful, and she’s looking at her with those expectant green eyes that Clarke could never get quite right on paper, and she knows she’s a goner.

It’s Lexa. The ‘ _thing_ ’ is Lexa. It’s starting to become a problem.

“Hey, Clarke,” she greets her with a smile.

Damn, if she doesn’t smile back. Yeah. She’s a goner. It’s confirmed. To everyone but Lexa, apparently. Clarke hasn’t tried to keep her feelings to herself - Lexa’s really fucking fantastic at missing them on her own. Seriously. Nobody’s that interested in talking about prom just for the sake of it, but Lexa seems to think the hints she’s been dropping are completely normal. The final nail in the coffin would be to hear the other girl just outright tell her that she’s not into her, and Clarke’s not ready for that yet. So the game of cat and mouse (or whatever weird version of it they were playing) continued.

The thing is, it had to end at some point. Either the mouse gets away or the cat makes its move, but, at any rate, it ends.

Clarke’s not sure which one she falls under. It changes every time she thinks about it.

She isn’t sure she cares, either, when Lexa grips her hand and starts relaying what happened in debate class and her forehead does that super cute thing it does and get’s all scrunchy when Lexa’s eyebrows raise.

“All I’m saying is, Bellamy was _wrong_. Anybody with half a brain knows that. You can’t just invade someone’s land and expect them to welcome you. Honestly, that’s just playground rules. Finder’s keepers.”

Clarke doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but she does know that Lexa’s right. Even if she’s wrong. Whatever. Clarke doesn’t care. Lexa’s hot when she’s passionate and it makes Clarke think of Lexa being passionate about other things and that makes Clarke hot in a completely different way.

God. If only she didn’t know what that was like. Maybe her monster crush wouldn’t exist. No such luck. Because Clarke does know what she’s like when she’s focused solely on her; her gorgeous green eyes scanning up and down her body appreciatively, heated kisses between classes in empty rooms and janitor closets, even more heated study hall sessions in the backseat of their cars, near misses of being caught by their friends. Or Clarke’s favorite, being alone in her room under the guise of working on their project. (They’d finished it a month ago. The hooking up did not.) _God_. Lexa was incredible in bed. Clarke probably should’ve known that the first time she saw her hands, because those _fingers_.

Now she’s squirming around in her seat. Great. Lexa knows this. Her smirk is infuriating. (Infuriatingly hot.) She ignores her for the rest of the class and slams her up against the shelf in the janitor’s closet before her lips meet hers in a bruising kiss that was more teeth and tongue than anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

Honestly, being with Lexa in secret wouldn’t be so bad if it could just stay that way. But it won’t. It never has. Clarke’s probably dumb if she thinks it ever will. Clarke’s probably dumb if she thinks she wants it to. The thought of seeing Lexa with another girl, walking her to class, meeting her at her locker, taking her to school every morning with a coffee waiting for her, touching her the way she touches Clarke, and doing all the little things she does that makes Lexa, _Lexa_ , makes Clarke’s insides twist and she bites down so hard on her bottom lip that she starts to taste blood.

Lexa being so absolutely sweet to anyone else makes her sick. She knows it’s selfish, since, no, they’re not _really_ together, but still. It makes her glare at any other girl that attempts to look at Lexa. It’s rude, she reasons when asked about it by Octavia. Clarke is standing _right there_. They could at least wait until they’ve finished their conversation to swoop in. It’s not Clarke’s problem that that never seems to happen.

She gets it, though. Lexa’s amazing. She’d probably do the same thing if the roles were reversed.

She keeps that one to herself.

Because she knew what she was doing from the first time she grabbed the collar of Lexa’s shirt and tossed her textbook aside so she could take it’s place in her lap.

Lexa’s never been just a friend. She’s been a stranger, she’s been someone that Clarke didn’t like, she’s been someone that Clarke begrudgingly started to like after Raven and Octavia began dating Lexa’s siblings (she guessed tall, dark, and stoic ran in her family) and now she’s someone that Clarke openly admits that she likes. But she’s never been just a friend. They just happen to share friends.

To sum it up, Clarke always knew hooking up with Lexa was a bad idea. She always knew that by the time she’d ended up in the girl’s lap, she was in too deep. She always knew that telling Lexa “hey, let’s keep it casual, okay? No strings,” was a huge fucking mistake. Mostly because Lexa seems more than fine with it.

It’s Clarke fault, she knows, but she can’t help but be a little pissed off at Lexa for going along with her idea so well.


	4. Chapter 4

When Lexa calls her later that night, she’s not surprised. It’s almost a routine. They talk about a lot of things; school, college, friends and family. There’s not anything she doesn’t talk to Lexa about. Well. Almost anything. The gigantic elephant in the room has been there for months.

She is surprised, though, by what Lexa’s choosing to talk about today. She was expecting a continuation of her and Bellamy’s debate, or anything, really, but this.

“What color is your prom dress again?”

“Blue.”

“Like...navy blue? Aqua blue? There’s a lot of different kinds of blues, Clarke. I need you to be more specific.”

She hums.

“Lexa, why does this matter?”

Oh, god. Shit. She hopes it's not because Lexa’s trying to plan her outfit for her date and doesn’t want some weird matchy-matchy situation going on between her and their group.

“...I need to match your dress, Clarke. Or at the very least, coordinate properly.”

Now Clarke’s confused.

“Why are we matching or coordinating?”

“Aren’t you supposed to do that with your date?”

She stills.

What. The. Fuck.

“Well, yeah. I just didn’t know that I was your prom date.”

Clarke pauses. She can hear a mumbled "shit," and rustling in the background on the other line. Lexa sighs. "I forgot to ask you. I’m assuming you’re okay with this? You weren’t very subtle about your hints."

Clarke snorts. "Cute, Lex."

"I hope you hadn't planned on any other dates. I'm afraid you're going to have to cancel them." The sarcasm in Lexa's voice is obvious, and Clarke knows, without having to see her, the other girl is smirking into the phone. "Actually," Lexa drawls, then trails off with a chuckle. "I'm really not."

Clarke supposes this is Lexa's way of telling her that she's not been delusional for the past couple of days and Lexa isn’t so blind it’d take a pick up truck smashing into her to catch onto the vibes Clarke’s been throwing her way lately.

“Can we be done with acting like we’re not together now? You’ve been scaring off my Biology partner with your glaring. And I really need to do well in that class.”

Clarke’s still kind of speechless, if she’s being honest.

“Okay. Well. Just send me a picture of your dress so I can figure out what I want to wear.”

Lexa hangs up, and it occurs to Clarke after she’s sent her the picture (and a few other ones that don't involve clothing - good behavior should be rewarded after all, and Lexa making her move is definitely a good thing) that she never officially said yes to either of Lexa’s questions.

When she sees her the next morning in her driveway, ready to pick her up, Clarke tells her as much and Lexa just laughs and grabs her hand.

“Like I said. You weren’t very subtle.”

It's ridiculous how much she likes this girl.


End file.
